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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29809605">don't leave me to breathe (don't leave me to bleed)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxrapikaz/pseuds/kxrapikaz'>kxrapikaz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>kxrapikaz vent time woohoo [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>:/, Birthday, Character Death, Death, Implied Relationships, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Kurapika, and now we're here, and then my brain threw angst at itself and clung onto it like a fucking terrier, but like not at all, except this time its fun and funky and also leorios birthday, haha - Freeform, implied trans character, kurapika d word fic except they know its leorios birthday and therefore its worse!, like not at ALLLLL, lol, seriously i am very very deeply sorry, seriously please read tags and cws, sorry - Freeform, this really isnt funny, this was SUPPOSED to be a birthday fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:34:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29809605</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxrapikaz/pseuds/kxrapikaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I’m sure that if Leorio were here, I would feel a little more at ease, at least. But he isn’t. And I don’t. Because I’m here, and I don’t know what’s happening except for the fact that I’m bleeding out on the tiles, and it’s his goddamn birthday. And the guilt is choking me, a self-inflicted chain pulled taught across the tender flesh of my throat, cutting into my skin and cutting off my airflow, black blood dripping down and pooling at my collar before slipping down my neck.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>kxrapikaz vent time woohoo [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>don't leave me to breathe (don't leave me to bleed)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title taken from ricky montgomery's "my heart is buried in venice"<br/>[cw for mentions of blood, gore, bodily fluids, and graphic descriptions of death]</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>My body is growing cold, and the chains on my right hand sit heavy and harsh, and my limbs tingle and fizz as though my blood has been carbonated. My abdomen is wet. And sticky, and still a little warm. I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> know where I am; all I can see is pristine tile, gleaming and white in my hazy vision, becoming slowly tarnished by a violent crimson that likely matches my eyes, that creeps, insipid over the ground. It claws at nothing, teething, lecherous in the way it sprawls hungrily for something to seep into. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I think I am losing consciousness. Everything is faintly clouded, swirling black and white and grey. Am I dying? I think so. My throat scratches, something black and hairy and eight-legged scrambling up my throat and past my lips, coated thinly in a glistening, sticky-scarlet sheen. It leaves an awful taste in my throat, bringing bile to my lips as it corrodes my mouth like acid. Or venom. Distantly, my brain offers up the fact that today is March Third, and this time the bile actually spills, choking me as it drips down onto my tie, my shirt. The spider twitches, jerking, and I find myself suppressing a laugh, because it really isn’t the first time that I’ve caught glimpses of myself in that which I vowed to eradicate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I absently wonder how Leorio is doing. Gon and Killua, too, but mainly Leorio. I think I regret not returning his calls. I think I also regret warming up to him so much. (That big, beautiful, kind-hearted fool of a man. Sometimes I force myself to think I hate him, but then I remember that I don’t think I could hate him if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span>). Nausea crawls over my skin, my hair standing on end, and I shudder. I’m sure that if Leorio were here, I would feel a little more at ease, at least. But he isn’t. And I don’t. Because I’m here, and I don’t know what’s happening except for the fact that I’m bleeding out on the tiles, and it’s his </span>
  <em>
    <span>goddamn </span>
  </em>
  <span>birthday. And the guilt is choking me, a self-inflicted chain pulled taught across the tender flesh of my throat, cutting into my skin and cutting off my airflow, black blood dripping down and pooling at my collar before slipping down my neck. I look down, slowly, my head spinning a little; there’s no black blood. My collar is the same starched white, unmarred. A shaking hand confirms that there are no chains, no angry ridges, either. Ironic, considering the way my hand rattles like some sort of sick toy as it makes its way back down to my side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m definitely dying now. That is a fact. A non-negotiable, cold, jarring fact. And it’s funny, I think. That now, as I feel the colour drain from my cheeks and my lips, as my eyes turn from a hungry, churning, sanguine to a paler, more muted sort of ruby, I do not want to die.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But of course, the Emperor has no regard for menial, insignificant things like ‘want’ or ‘desire’. And of course, as expected, his grip is cold on my shoulder, imaginary fingers digging harshly through the fabric of my blazer, shirt, and binder, pulling me toward him as he wraps his arms around me in a frigid embrace. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry LOL if you squint maybe this can still be leopika. maybe this can be leorio birthday fic still. just squint, like, really really fucking hard. actual birthday fic should be out tomorrow.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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